


Meet You There

by Dusty_Forgotten



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Crushes, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-14 02:26:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2174541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_Forgotten/pseuds/Dusty_Forgotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>WHY DO I NEVER WRITE FEMSLASH??</p>
    </blockquote>





	Meet You There

**Author's Note:**

> WHY DO I NEVER WRITE FEMSLASH??

It’s her hands, really- or, what she can do with them. Veronica probably wouldn’t like her nearly as much if she hadn’t have pounded that coyote’s face in with a pair of spiked knuckles, because that was kind of, really, _really_ hot.

Erin’s a flirt, too, flirts with everyone. More-so with men, says it’s easier with men because she “knows when she’s won”.

Veronica knows how it works, by now. Sometimes Six will talk to a guy a little too long, then she’ll wink at Veronica and say “Meet you back at the 38”, and they both know one of them is getting laid that night, and it’s not Veronica. The King, the Tops greeter, that one guy at the Ultra-Luxe she’s pretty sure she’s sleeping with as an elaborate scheme to steal his hat- Erin gets around. Veronica wouldn’t care, if she didn’t wish she was one of them.

She flirts with everyone though- women too. That’s the problem. It gives Veronica hope, but it never goes anywhere. Not with women. Not with Veronica. Oh, but it’s not like she’s bitter, or anything.

Then came that day at the Thorn. Erin handed Red Lucy a pile of deathclaw eggs, and she handed back a pile of caps and a hunting shotgun. They talk while Erin checked it out, but Veronica didn’t listen, because Lucy still scares her a little. Then Erin shoved the shotgun at her and said, “Take this back to the 38, will you?” with a wink, and disappeared after Red Lucy. Veronica cried for a good few hours until Arcade dragged her up to the cocktail lounge because Six was nearly back. Arcade didn’t really have the people skills necessary, so when he told her it was time to let it go, she didn’t listen. Not until Sarah Weintraub. That’s when Veronica well and truly accepted she just wasn’t Erin’s type, and got over it.

Six got them both new dresses- white for Veronica, black for herself. They were beautiful, not moth-eaten or anything, and Erin did their hair up in pin-curls close to the scalp, because that’s all the hair they have, and Veronica did their make-up, and Erin laced their arms when they walked to the Tops.

Erin didn’t sing well, but she sang, and after a Chairman bought her a couple drinks, she sang for everyone in the Aces. She wasn’t _terrible_... Not good by a long shot, but Veronica didn’t notice, because she was smiling, and Veronica whistled obnoxiously. It was lost in the hundred whistles from the Chairmen (mostly for the slit in the dress that runs up to Erin’s hip), but when she hopped off the stage, she didn’t stop to flirt with them, headed straight for Veronica. She took that as “only here to drink”, but that look in Erin’s eyes said she wasn’t going to bed alone. Veronica jumped the gun with, “Hoping to get lucky tonight?”

“Well, I’m not gonna turn it down.” she chuckled coyly.

With a sad smile she hoped Erin didn’t see, she supplied, “Meet you back at the 38?”

The Courier smiled, one side of her mouth at a time, and said lowly “Meet you there.”

She reached out, slow, giving Veronica time to process _it was actually happening_ as Erin’s small, trigger-callused hand went to the back of her neck and drought-chapped lips met hers. Slow, so slow, trying not to scare her off. She’s never this slow with anyone, practically jumps on men’s laps, but with Veronica, she’s slow. She pulled away after the barely-there little brush, eyebrows up, lipstick still perfect because Veronica’s wearing the same colour. Veronica bit barely at the corner of her lip as Erin dropped her hand. She looked nervous. She looked adorable.

“...How long have you known?” _Why didn’t you do that sooner?_

She crossed her arms and shrugged slightly. “Arcade told me.”

“Oh.” she responded curtly, making a mental note to punch him, then hug him to death.

Then she looked back at Erin, eyebrows still up, one foot turned out, still worried about the non-reaction she was getting. So Veronica pushed her back into the bar, and kissed her- hard. Erin scraped her teeth on Veronica’s lip, hands skating over the lace of Veronica’s dress, Veronica’s own hand on that slit to her thigh. Chairmen whistled, and Erin tossed them the bird before she tilted her head back, out of reach. “I do have the Presidential...?”

Veronica pecked her, quick on the lips. “Race you there.”


End file.
